


Mirrors of a Different Kind

by InsertSthMeaningful



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Cunnilingus, Exhibitionism, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polarfrost, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27085486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertSthMeaningful/pseuds/InsertSthMeaningful
Summary: Esme and Lorna have some fun in bed. Sophie and Phoebe join them - telepathically.
Relationships: Esme Cuckoo/Lorna Dane
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18
Collections: X-Men Kink Meme 2020





	Mirrors of a Different Kind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinaxpow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinaxpow/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [XMen_Kink_Meme_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/XMen_Kink_Meme_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> It's one thing to know that with Esme's telepathic connection to her siblings Lorna is never truly alone with her. It's another thing to experience it when she's in the bedroom.  
> Up to you if the other Cuckoos are there in person or watching/interacting via telepathy.
> 
> I have literally not seen the show so don't kill me if they're OOC 👀 just wanted to write something for a friend. Feel free to point out any mistakes, its self-beta-ed.

“I want _you_.”

 _Me?_ Esme, fresh out of the shower and still too occupied with putting her earrings back in, wanted to splutter. _Out of all the girls and guys you could have, you want me?_

But Lorna had already taken her arm and started pulling her towards her bedroom.

The door slammed shut, the locking mechanism clicking closed, and Lorna grinned. She did not care that she may have looked like a maniac, just a little, or that her hands were maybe just a bit jittery when they pulled her hair back into a ponytail and then gripped Esme’s shoulders. She just wanted Esme.

The telepath’s perplexed expression rapidly changed to complicit elation as Lorna walked her backwards until they bumped against the heavy oak wood dresser near the bed, and then, when Lorna grabbed her by her waist and thighs and hefted her onto the top of the chest of drawers, Esme giggled.

“We’re really doing this,” she said, and it was not a question. Her legs tightened around Lorna’s hips, effectively trapping her between Esme’s thighs, and Lorna grabbed at the soft flesh encased by white stockings – the Frost sisters’ fashion choices might have been questionable at times, but today, their preference for short skirts was a blessing.

Lorna leaned up and buried one hand in Esme’s immaculate platinum hair. “We are,” she breathed before she leaned up and caught Esme’s lips with hers.

It was a long, searing kiss – bursts of teeth and taste and electricity strung up one after the other like pearls on a string. Esme moaned low in her throat, and then she squealed in surprise when Lorna’s hand slipped under the edge of her skirt and came to rest on her hip bone, then dipped lower, lower, to the warmth between her legs.

“You don’t think,” she gasped, a lovely blush dusting her pale cheeks and the back of Lorna’s leather jacket all bunched up in her grip, “that we should take this to the bed?”

“We could,” mused Lorna, far too invested in popping the buttons of Esme’s petal-white shirt open and nibbling at her collarbone. Esme tasted of jasmine, of vanilla tea and nervous anticipation. And beneath her skin, her blood flowed, pumped through her veins by the abrupt rhythm of her heartbeats. Lorna felt the purr of the iron at her fingertips, grinning against Esme’s skin.

Then, Esme bucked her hips against Lorna’s hand, thighs spasming, and gasped, “We should _really_ take this to bed.”

Lorna didn’t even bother with an answer, just slid her hands under the telepath’s bum and proceeded to pick her up like she weighed nothing – and she really did, considering all the metal jewelry and belt buckles Esme had started wearing since she met Lorna.

In her arms, Esme was a warm and welcome weight, pliant when Lorna deposited her on the mattress and then lowered herself on top of her, one thigh wedged between Esme’s legs. They were both starting to look ruffled beyond compare, and Lorna itched to mess up her telepath’s perfectly calm and composed demeanor, to peel her out of her goody-goody schoolgirl clothes and show her just what powers the Mistress of Magnetism wielded.

In her arms, Esme sighed happily. “Mine,” she whispered, fingers cool like diamond when they wound through Lorna’s hair and pulled her down for another kiss, “mine.” 

Esme could feel their long fingers searching, probing, tapping at her mind’s door. For the time being, she ignored them.

“Show-off,” she giggled and held still so Lorna could hover her hand over the zipper of her skirt, pulling it open with a flourish and without even so much as touching it.

Lorna grinned and slid a hand under Esme’s button-up, delight bleeding into her thoughts when Esme shivered at the touch. “Oh, you love it.”

 _We do_ , said the two voices at the back of Esme’s mind in unison. “I do,” she murmured and hooked one leg around Lorna’s hips. “Can I take your jacket off?”

Lorna leaned up, raised her arms over her head, and her leather jacket zipped open and peeled itself off her upper body.

“ _Show-off_ ,” Esme repeated, and for emphasis, she tightened her thighs around Lorna’s waist so she wouldn’t pull away as Esme leaned up and hitched up the edge of her shirt. And Lorna went willingly, let Esme pull the fabric over her head and her shock of emerald hair and unclipped her bra just when Esme thought she couldn’t gape wider at the expanse of pale, delicate skin in front of her.

 _Nice_ , she told Lorna, the word wrapped up in all kinds of iridescent feelings of appreciation and anticipation.

 _Very nice indeed_ , agreed the voices in Esme’s head, whispering. _Now let us in. Let us watch._

“Something wrong?” Lorna breathed, but her fingers were already working the last buttons of Esme’s shirt open, greedily, and wild horses couldn’t get Esme to spoil this moment.

“Nothing.” Esme’s hands slid over Lorna’s pecs, tested the firmness of them, then went to cup her breasts, perfect handfuls of pinkish rosiness. Lorna groaned, desire tinting her incoherent thoughts crimson, and her fingers’ movement became more frantic. “Now show me what you’ve got.”

And just as the last button came undone and Lorna peeled the shirt from Esme’s shoulders, the pressure in Esme’s head became too much – and she let them in.

Only when Esme’s moaned chants of “Mine, mine, mine” changed to _Ours, ours, ours_ did Lorna understand that they weren’t alone anymore.

She looked up from between Esme’s thighs, already knuckles-deep inside her, and frowned. “They’re with you,” she said more than asked. Esme’s eyes were shimmering in that uncanny way of hers, and when Lorna looked closer, she did not see her own reflection, but that of two women who looked just like Esme - mirrors of a different kind. 

Esme sighed and rocked back and forth on Lorna’s fingers, gripping the pillow under her hips tighter. “Do you mind?”

Lorna caught herself by surprise when she said, “Not really. But they can only look, not touch.”

 _Of course_ , whispered two voices in unison, and Lorna thought she could see two shadow silhouettes perched by Esme’s head, specters of astral forms. She grinned. If those two wanted a show, she would give them one – and make Esme feel so good she’d only ever want Lorna afterwards.

“Watch,” she whispered, pinching one of Esme’s pert nipples to get her attention back, and then she leaned down and sucked Esme’s clit between her lips.

Esme’s shout of surprise was accompanied by a tidal wave white-hot pleasure, crashing over Lorna’s head, pulling her under until her body felt like a furnace. She gasped, then put her tongue back to work, licking between Esme’s folds, tasting her tart saltiness as the telepath moaned above her, louder, louder, and she started leaking on Lorna’s fingers.

“Do you like this?” Lorna asked during a pause for breath, and Esme’s _We do_ resounded in her head like church bells.

Hot. Esme was so hot around her fingers, so slick that it was almost searing, and Lorna could feel herself grow wet. Inconspicuously, she slipped a hand under the waistband of her panties and cupped her own crotch while Esme spasmed around her. The two shadows by Esme’s head were smiling.

“Please,” Esme gasped, begging for nothing in particular, and Lorna gave it to her, until Esme was sobbing and her thighs were quivering and her fingers were knotted tightly into Lorna’s hair and Lorna’s vision whited out.

When she lifted her head, disoriented, what felt like an eternity later but had probably been just a minute, the specters by Esme’s head had vanished.

“Do you think they liked it?” she slurred and slumped heavily onto Esme’s chest.

“Oof. You’re crushing me.” But Esme was smiling, all her usually so composed sharpness gone when she reached up and tucked a loose strand of Lorna’s hair back behind her ear. “And I don’t know. I was too… _distracted_ to ask them.”

“We’re alone now?” Esme nodded, and Lorna grinned and leaned in for one long, slow kiss. _I’ve been waiting for this for so long._

Esme’s giggle was drowned in the touch of their lips. _So have I_. Then, she drew back, all ruffled locks of blonde and glittering sapphire eyes, and said, “Now, how about round two?”

And how could Lorna possibly tell her no?


End file.
